I have felt like a post has been bubbling away in the back of my head much like the volcanic mud pots in Yellowstone. An occasional splut or splat along with some sulfuric gasses. Interesting to watch but doesn’t really do much. Maybe, probably, this inability to put thoughts to paper – or screen – is all related to stress about everything in the world. Maybe.
Probably.
So much anger of late. I’ve noticed it for years with the ascent of DJT to the pinnacle of political power in our country, and yet, it seems as if the anger people clung to is still hanging on despite the ouster of the former president. This is not naivete, or oblivious wondering, on my part – there are some legitimate reasons for many people and groups to be angry. But, do we have to be angry about everything?
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I have found myself struggling lately. Stress, anxiety, all the “shoulda, woulda, coulda, gottas”. I’ve also found myself wanting, no… truly craving to get into a creative flow state. The more I thought about this desire, the more I found myself finding opportunities to think about it, from the fluid dynamics of air from a semi pulling past on the interstate to remembering how much I loved playing with the meltwater of snow in the spring.
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For several weeks I have had lofty goals of writing for the blog. Admittedly, I allowed myself to get distracted and pulled in to doing other tasks, both the unpaid labor of house-and-yard work and the paid things of content writing, editing, proofing, etc., for other people. Sprinkle in a bit of the exhaustion that comes from my always forgetting just how busy the summer months are, and I had all the right conditions of a perfect storm of imperfection.
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For several weeks now I’ve had the saying “The squeaky wheel gets the grease,” repeating in my head. Thankfully, this has not been a non-stop repetition but more of a random thought-bubble intruding into my mental dialogue. A curiosity, if you will, which, of course, sent me on a tangent of wondering what wheel in my life was requiring some greasing.
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I put the binders away. I cleaned up my desk. Recycled the scratch paper. Then, I finished reading the textbook I had to return. The semester had ended and as I was clearing out the detritus from the semester, I had a word pop into my head: Eventually.
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Goats are wasteful with their hay. Despite building “little waste” mangers, the girls still pull out and ignore just as much hay as they eat. Then, though there are piles of hay that they turn into fluffy beds, they insist they are starving. So, as I stood guard over our oldest, Disqua, as everyone ate their granola, I got to thinking about the “waste not, want not” mentality.
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What a time to be alive!! A pandemic AND an attempted coup d’etat. I felt like my brain was full of ideas earlier this week, while I was at work of course, and then January 6th happened. As I write this, I still feel as if this were all very surreal. So, what better topic talk about than: surrealism.
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I’m exhausted and a touch old ‘n busted. The exhaustion is because people either want to fight over every opinion on every topic or they want validation for every opinion on every topic. I’m old ‘n busted, because, well – OH the tales I could tell. Work hard, play harder! Scars often have great stories. But, back to the exhaustion. Because I’m tired, I decided to disengage. Continue reading
Musings of the Amusing Muse 